Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25433946-20141011060324/@comment-108.170.133.210-20160121041752

The sense of urgency was ever-present. Among the discarded zero-sugar Monsters, bags of sour patch kids, and slice of pizza, Daniel pushed forward trying to figure out what to do, how to act, what was left, and how to get the damn Zords working. And it wasn't like he blamed the others. He knew none of them could do anything, not like this. Hell, he was barely understanding what he was doing: it was like staring into a black hole of information and realizing you already knew the answer, but the answer was nonsensical and wouldn't send Zords into the field.



The first nine hours had already worn him pretty close to collapse, so Daniel found a chair and brought it to the basement room. The next hours would be harder. He could work through the night, he would. He had to, there was no other real option. The horseman could come at any time.



So he sat: gave his phone to Lilian and took to deciphering what he had left.



When he started to really get woozy, was unable to concentrate. He morphed: at least, he thought, he might have a temporary break, be able to focus, maybe figure out how to put the weapons together. Results. Results. That's what he needed.



(So Daniel is going to stay up throughout the night. I'm thinking since he woke up at 8am and with the 9 +1 hour away from working, it's probably about 6pm. He'll morph and get to work).



